Page 96 of The Rose (The Godwicks 2)

“I wish to obey the gods. If the gods will our marriage, then yes, I wish to be your husband. Though why the gods would want the likes of me for one of their chosen ones, I can’t imagine.”

Handsome and humble? He was perfect. Oh, she had such good taste in husbands.

“What’s so wrong with you that you think the gods strange to favor you?” she asked.

“I’m a minor prince of a minor kingdom,” he said. “And why me when I have older brothers still waiting to find brides?”

“You’re prettier than your brothers,” she said. “I checked.”

“Is my bride so shallow to be swayed by a pleasing countenance?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said. “I suppose the gods know what they’re doing.”

“Not really. They’re just winging it.”

Ha! That was a good one. He didn’t laugh. Oh, he didn’t know she had wings. That’s why he didn’t laugh.

“Can you please come out?” he asked. “Please?”

“I can, but you can’t look at me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “If you are...disfigured or something, you should know I am not as shallow as my bride seems to be. If the gods want us together, then we shall be well and content if we honor them and each other.”

She put her hand over her heart and sighed. She loved him. Oh, she loved him. So sweet, this young prince. Why wasn’t he naked yet?

“I’m adorable, I’ll have you know,” she said. “Too adorable. Puppies faint at the sight of me and kittens weep with envy. Aphrodite herself said I’m cute as a button and you know she’s shallow as a puddle in dry season. I’m so attractive that if you saw me, you’d fall madly in love with me at first sight, and I’d much prefer you loved me for my personality before I showed you my face.”

“Can you come out and let me meet your personality, then?” he asked.

“I will,” she said. “But you have to put the sash over your eyes.”

“Sash?”

She untied the white ribbon from the hair of the wide-hipped nymph she stood behind. Then she took the ribbon and dipped it into the dark sky, dyeing the fabric the deep blue of midnight, and festooning it with silver crescent moons and golden stars. With a single breath, she dried the night-wet silk and sent it flying toward the prince. He caught it out of the air.

“This is all very mysterious,” he said, not unkindly, almost enchanted.

“I have my reasons. Put it on.” She waved her hand to hurry him up, though he could not see her gestures.

He wrapped the sash around his head, over his eyes, and neatly tied it in back and so he bound the night about his eyes.

“I’m coming out,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. I’m very nice.”

“I’ll try to be brave,” he said, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.

The little goddess slipped out of the mural and stepped barefoot on the tile floor of their bedchamber.

At the first sound of her foot on the floor, the prince turned toward her, lips slightly parted in trepidation. Her immortal heart nearly stopped in her immortal chest. She had never loved anyone so much in her long, long life.

“You must promise,” she said, “you won’t try to sneak a peek.”

“Sneak a peek?”

“No sneaking, no peeking.”

“I promise I’ll neither sneak nor peek,” he said.

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